Reflex

Zedaph may or may not have just given himself a concussion, but either way, he was going to call this experiment a success.

He picked himself up from the dusty floor of his cave with a groan. Finally, he’d managed to set the correct delay for maximum airtime, and the machine had launched him further than ever! He absentmindedly rubbed one of his many bruises and grinned across the room at the slime block cannon. His mind was already spinning, trying to come up with a good name for the latest addition to his base. Contraption #30: Slime block launchificator? No, that’s too Tango. Slime slapper? No, too gross….

He brushed some loose dust off his armour and leaned back, inspecting the way the contraption fit into the greater landscape of the cave. It felt like something was missing…. He had a cannon on either side of the cave, one to launch him and one to bring him back, but could he possibly squeeze in a third one? Maybe to fling him up to the ceiling?

He was still contemplating contraption configurations when he heard a rhythmic clanking noise from above. The door in his roof slid open, and a rustle of wings echoed through the cave as Impulse landed gracefully in the center of the room.

“Hey, Zed, what’s up?” He called cheerily, looking around at the new developments.

“Hi Impulse!” Zed jogged toward his storage room, where his friend was currently wandering around. “What brings you here? Here to help me test the...name incoming...Slime Slinger 9000?”

Impulse pulled a face. “Bleh.”

Zed cringed. “Maybe that one isn’t the winner.”

“Maybe not,” Impulse agreed with a chuckle.

“Well, if you’re not here to test the genius inventions, what does bring you here?” Zed struck a dramatic pose on genius inventions , ignoring the way his “genius” made his head throb as he did so.

Impulse chuckled. “Well, I was actually wondering if you had any pumpkins I could borrow, but I might as well take a look at the contraptions while I’m here. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Zed’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have a farm for pumpkins?”

A wave of confusion washed over Impulse’s face, and for a second he looked a little lost. Then his unfailing smile returned and he gently nudged Zedaph with an elbow. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to visit you!”

Zed burst out laughing. “Man, Tango wasn’t kidding when he said you needed more sleep. Forgetting about a whole farm...anyways, you don’t need an excuse to visit! As long as you’re willing to participate in some science!”

Impulse hesitated. “Safe science?”

Zedaph’s eyes gleamed. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He tugged Impulse over to the wall, making a wide sweeping gesture at the canon. “ This is the Slimeificator-slapper-sprayer-launcher-cannon-unnamed-thingy 9000!” He paused to catch his breath. “It can fling you across the cave at a speed of I-haven’t-measured-yet to a distance of - to a distance of I forgot!”

“And it only costs fifty diamonds a month!” Impulse laughed, finishing the sales pitch. “Get yours today!”

“For you my friend, it’s free.” Zed placed a block for Impulse to use as a step and invited him in with a bow. “Just as long as you admit I’m not legally responsible for any damages to your health and safety, mental or physical.”

Impulse begrudgingly climbed into the cannon. “I admit no such thing,” he grumbled.

“Too bad I know how to forge your signature, then!” Zed grinned and pulled the lever.

He raced to the other end of the cave to find Impulse sprawled on the floor, grinning just as hard as he was. He sat up with a slight wince and attempted to straighten his helmet.

“So? How was the ride?” Zed could barely contain his excitement.

“Fast,” Impulse said, speech still muffled by the disheveled armour.

“Great! Wonderful! I was wondering if I should maybe lower the speed, but that would lower the distance too and it wouldn’t be far enough to get to the intake of the second cannon -” he started to ramble. “ Or I thought I could lower the speed and add a third cannon, which would solve the distance issue, but then it might be boring, so I could also raise the speed and add slime blocks to prevent injury, or maybe some kind of healing potion or a resistance beacon or -” He paused, realizing he was probably overwhelming his friend. “Or we could just start with the third cannon and see how that goes. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Impulse paused to think, tilting his head to consider the cannon that was already there.

“Actually,” he said, smile still unwavering. “I kind of think you should just tear the whole thing down.”

Zed blinked. “...what?”

Impulse stood up. “Yeah, I’m not really sure if the concept is there, y’know? You have to admit it’s a bit dull.”

“You think so…?”

Zed’s heart sank. He’d never thought of it like that before. He’d imagined a slime block cannon would be a really cool addition, but once he thought about it, it had probably been done a million times already, and by people way better than him…. It wasn’t like Impulse at all to point it out, so if he of all people was saying something, it must be really bad. Zedaph stared down at the floor, suddenly trying hard not to cry.

“Yeah...you’re right, I guess…”

Impulse slung his arm around Zed’s shoulder, giving him a friendly pat on the back. “Cheer up, I’m sure you’ll think of something better soon”

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, I’d best be off, lots of base progress to do still.” Impulse glanced up toward the door. “Before I go, is there anything else I can do for you? I feel kinda bad for bothering you about pumpkins I don’t even need.” Impulse laughed softly.

Zed did his best to shake off his gloom. After all, what kind of an inventor would he be if he didn’t take constructive criticism? Not that that felt very constructive… “I think I’m good here, actually. Thanks for asking, though!” He mustered up a smile.

“You sure? I see you don’t have a totem.” Impulse flicked his hand, and an extra Totem of Undying appeared from his inventory. “For you, I could offer a discount.” Zed might have been imagining it, but he thought his smile looked slightly apologetic.

The apology, he could accept, but the other thing…

“Even with the discount, you know I’m dead broke.” Zed laughed sheepishly. “And don’t try to give it to me for free either, man. They’re already priced low enough.”

“Are you sure?” Impulse looked concerned.

“Hey, I don’t die that often!” Zed protested. “I’ll be careful! I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Impulse sighed. “Maybe I’ll come back when you have more diamonds. I don’t exactly trust you on the ‘being careful’ front.”

“What’s not to trust?” Zed spread his arms open, the picture of innocence, and then flinched as his bruised shoulder twinged.

“Exactly.” Impulse laughed and took off, spiralling back up through the door.

Zed smiled and went to check his storage. Even if Impulse hadn’t really needed them, he was curious now about whether he actually had pumpkins. Either way, it was always nice to have an unexpected visit. As much as he loved his chaotic cave, he had to admit it got lonely sometimes.

He absentmindedly checked the tab list to see who else might be active, wondering if he could maybe give Tango a call. It was a quiet day on the server - Tango wasn’t there, and the list only showed Zedaph, Xisuma, Mumbo, and Impulse, who was listed as AFK.

Huh. That’s weird. He couldn’t be AFK already, he had only just left. Must be some kind of glitch .

Zed finally found the pumpkin chest - empty - and realized he’d been stalling. He looked over at the cannon he needed to tear out and his heart sank once more. Sighing heavily, he readied his pickaxe. There was a lot of work ahead of him, and it wasn’t the kind he enjoyed.

Tango had been thinking hard, and that almost never went well.

He sighed and disentangled himself from the panes of glass above Cub’s quartz shop. It had been one of the earliest shops to pop up in the shopping district, so why did he still run into it so often? He made a mental note to stop thinking about his latest minigame for long enough to look where he was going next time. He made a second mental note that he would probably forget that first one.

He drifted down from the cloud of glass, slowly spiraling to the ground on his elytra. He took a moment to get his bearings, then set out on foot towards his and Impulse’s concrete shop. It was far enough that he would normally like to fly, but he was not about to use rockets right now unless he really needed to. His back still stung from the flash of the fireworks he’d had to use to get over here. Damnit, Etho.

“Tango!”

Tango startled and looked up to see Impulse approaching along the path. He waved as he got closer, looking friendly and a little tired, as always. Tango waved back.

“Hey, just the guy I was looking for! How ya doin’?”

“Good, good, couldn’t be better.” Impulse’s smile stretched even wider. “You?”

“Other than my pride, I’m just fine.” Tango smoothed his hair, still disheveled from the Glass Incident. “I really need to learn to watch where I’m going.”

Impulse chuckled. “Crashing into things must be contagious. Zed was pretty banged up when I saw him today, too.”

Tango shook his head. “Contraption?”

“You know it.”

“Well, I don’t need a contraption to make me clumsy.” Tango squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I’m just that talented all on my own.”

“Truly a rare gift to society,” Impulse teased, gently punching him on the arm.

Tango playfully shoved him away. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and come help me check the concrete shop?”

They continued along the path, chatting about how their days were going. Impulse always seemed to find a way to turn a question back on Tango - how was he doing, how were his projects coming along...Tango knew he didn’t usually talk much about himself, but today it seemed even worse than usual. He made yet another mental note to check in on his buddy when they were less distracted with talk of shops and money. I’m gonna need a bigger mental notepad.

When they finally reached the shop, the profits were far less than Tango had hoped. He wearily scooped the singular diamond up from the bottom of the chest and sighed.

“I guess that’s what we get if we try to run a concrete shop with no concrete. X must be better at keeping his place stocked.”

Impulse shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I almost forgot this place existed for a while there. I really should be helping out more, shouldn’t I.”

Tango waved his hand dismissively. “You stockificated the place last month, it’s me who’s been falling down on the job.”

“Did I?” Impulse looked a little bewildered. “....Oh, that’s right, I remember now. I must not have gathered enough.”

“It’s fine, you’re busy.” Tango handed him the diamond.

“You’re busy, too,” he said, already trying to give it back.

“I can put off messing with Sticky Bombs for a few days if it’ll earn us more diamonds.” Tango stepped back before Impulse could toss the diamond to him.

Impulse begrudgingly put it away in his inventory. “I thought you finished that game a while ago?”

“I did, but I’ve been playing around with the idea of adding more TnT.” From the alarmed look on Impulse’s face, Tango could guess that his eyes had lit up when saying “more TnT”.

Impulse gave a nervous laugh. “Well in that case, I should probably give you a totem before you do anything else. You know your luck with TnT is only slightly better than Bdubs’.”

He was probably right. “Fine, I’ll buy one, but only because I know you’re gonna use my death for advertisement if I don’t.”

Impulse looked offended. “Me? I would never.”

“Yeah, right, I bet you wouldn’t.” Tango rolled his eyes and turned to go to Em and Em’s.

“Actually, I have a totem right here.”
Tango paused. For a guy who’s rolling in diamonds, he sure is enthusiastic about the opportunity to make a buck. Really, he carries them around now?

If Impulse noticed that Tango was silently laughing at him as he turned back, he didn’t show it. “Yeah, I was just about to stock the shop, actually. What a coincidence.” His unfailing smile persisted.

“Fine, let me just get some -” Tango reached into his pocket and found a diamond that hadn’t been there before. “...diamonds. Fine, I guess I’ll take this week’s profits, but you’re getting next week’s! And this week’s too, technically.” Tango tossed him the diamond and accepted the totem he offered.

“Pleasure doing business.” Impulse grinned.

The totem burned searingly hot in his hand, and for just a moment, Impulse’s eyes seemed to glow with a cold, golden light. Tango flinched backwards, almost falling on top of the concrete chests.

“Woah, you okay?” Impulse reached out to steady him.

Tango blinked. His eyes were normal again - of course they were. The totem was cool in his hand, as it must have always been.

“Yeah. Weird...weird kind of lag spike or something.”

“Okay, well, hope that doesn’t happen when you’re working with the TnT, right? Take care!” Impulse ducked out the iron door and flew away, seeming rushed. He must have a project of his own to get back to.

Tango shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering unease. Projects. Right. He had concrete to grind.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The unease stayed dispelled for three days. Long enough for Tango to finish getting concrete and go back to working on Sticky Bombs. Long enough for him to convince himself more and more that what he saw and felt was indeed, just lag.

Long enough for him to suspect nothing.

Working that late and that long, he had gotten careless. He knew as soon as that TnT fell that it was going to be rough. He’d gone too far in his testing, and even with full blast protection armour, he was about to pay for it.

There was no way he was getting out of there in time. He didn’t even try. He just held still and prayed that the totem would do its job.

It did. It did precisely what it was meant to do.

The expected wall of pain slammed into Tango as the explosion’s shock wave hit him, instantly bringing his health down to zero. He squeezed his eyes tight shut as he waited for the totem to activate. A second loud boom mimicked the blast of the tnt. Was that the totem? Totems of Undying don’t sound like that…

Panicked, he opened his eyes to see a shower of red and black sparks cascading around him. His muscles locked, and he fell to his knees as a new pain grew overwhelming.

It should be getting better now. I should be regenerating health. I should be one totem down and feeling fine. None of this should be happening right now. Those were the last frantic thoughts to fly through his head, as his vision grew dim and his senses abandoned him.

Curled in agony on the floor of his obsidian chamber underground, no one was close enough to help. No one was close enough to watch him die.

Deep within the halls of the abandoned Mycelim resistance base, far from the eyes of any Hermit, “Impulse” waits. He waits for a sign, some indication of the success he knows is coming, He waits for the rush. He waits for victory.

It isn’t long before he gets his wish. He glances down to see his totem’s glow increase manyfold, illuminating the silent halls of quartz in a ghostly light. He can almost feel the new power flow through him. One more life, his to spend. One more stone in the dam that holds back his fate. He allows himself a single smile - one genuinely his, not the smile of that grinning fool he pretends to be in this world. The grin is jagged and sharp, curling lips and showing teeth. The thought of how the Hermits would run from him if they saw it makes him smile all the more.

But they must never see it. Not yet. One more life added to his safety net is not enough. He needs more - and to fulfill his plans, he must wear the mask once again.

He pulls it from his pocket, stretching the cloth over the lower half of his face. Shielding the glow of the screen with his arm, he pulls out his communicator and types in a command.

/disguise Reflexv

The fabric of the mask shifts, moulding itself to his flesh, melding with it. The transformation ripples through his body, suppressing the glow in his eyes, changing his stance to be open and friendly, as the Hermits expect. As the plan requires.

Reflex - Impulse, now, for all intents and purposes - makes his way to the surface. For one more night, he will wear the identity of his alter. For long enough to take one more life, the deception will carry on.

And one more.

And one more.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Another.

He is deceiving himself, too. It will never be enough.

Impulse stretched his arms high above his head, feeling joints crack all along his body. Standing in an AFK box always made him slightly sore, and this session had been exceptionally long. He had wanted some extra supplies for villager trading, but to be honest, he’d needed a break from working way more than he needed the resources from all of his farms. He hadn’t realized how tired he’d been until he finally slowed down enough to let himself feel it. Because of that, he’d kept himself in his trance much longer than he probably needed to, but it felt good to know that even while resting he was being productive.

“Maybe a bit too productive,” he mumbled to himself as he poked his head out of the box and saw the mess that was his collection system. He spread his elytra and glided over his industrial district, taking in the masses of overflowed items spilled across the ground. He would have to expand his storage.

Well, no time like the present. He lit a rocket and sped off toward his base to get wood for chests. He felt energized, ready to take on another big project, his head already overflowing with ideas. One thing at a time. Placing all those chests would give him time to think, let him pull the scattered thoughts together into actual plans. He sighed contentedly, already looking forward to the day ahead of him. Yes, that rest had definitely been a good idea.

He splashed through the waterfall that served as the door to his base and swooped toward his storage system, coming to a running stop as he touched down on the ground. Humming softly to himself, he set about transferring the stacks of logs from the chest to his shulker boxes.

“Impulse.”

Logs spilled from his arms and across the floor as he jumped, startled. “Zedaph! Jeez, man, way to let a guy know before you drop in!” Chuckling, he picked up the logs and glanced at Zed to make sure he knew he wasn’t actually mad.

Only then did he realize that Zedaph did not sound happy. He didn’t look happy, either.

“Have you seen Tango?” Zed kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground.

Impulse tossed the last of the logs into the shulker and walked closer. “No, not recently. I’ve been AFK for the last few days. Why do you ask?”

“He was supposed to meet me to work on something.” Zed glanced off to the side. “I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“No, it’s - it’s fine, I’m not busy or anything.” Impulse felt his smile fall into concern. “You’re not bothering me by asking me things, Zed.”

Zedaph made a noncommittal noise and kicked at the floor.

Trying to break the awkward silence, Impulse asked, “What were you supposed to work on? Maybe he’s just getting supplies or something?”

“Oh, you know.” Zed finally looked at him. “Had to tear up one of my contraptions. Tango is helping me come up with a new one.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that.” Well, that explained Zed’s mood. He must have had another one explode on him or something, or maybe another Escaping Bee Incident. Impulse knew how bad it felt to have a project fail on you. Maybe there was something he could do to cheer his buddy up?

“I could help you work on it?” he suggested, already reaching for his redstone box. “I’m not nearly as good at coming up with crazy ideas as Tango, but I could try.” He continued in his best (which still wasn’t great) Tango impression. “Would I be an okay substitutification?” He stumbled badly on that last word and burst out laughing.

His laughter trailed off as Zedaph continued to stare at him blankly.

“...or not,” he amended.

“Yeah, probably best if you don’t. You’ve already helped enough.” The bitterness in Zed’s voice caught him off guard.

“Um - okay, that’s fine...would you rather I help you find Tango?”

Zed finally managed to summon a smile. “That would be nice.”

Impulse took a seat on the edge of the shulker box and started scrolling through the chat, looking for any indication of where Tango might have gone. Whatever had Zedaph so sour, he was starting to think it wasn’t as simple as a broken contraption. Maybe he could get his friend to talk about it later, but for now, he would just do his best to help in a more practical way. After all, he did have a lot of missed good deeds of the day to catch up on from when he was AFK.

“I’m assuming you checked his base already?”

“Yeah,” Zed sighed, plopping down on the chest beside him. “He wasn’t there.”

“That rules out him getting supplies from his storage room, then.” Impulse kept scrolling as he talked. It didn’t look like Tango had sent any messages at all today. Strange.

“I mean, he could be keeping supplies somewhere else? I know he was working on Sticky Bombs earlier, so -”

“Zed.”

“What?”

Impulse sat frozen, a chill of dread crawling up his spine. The thing he was looking at shouldn't exist. It didn’t exist. So why was he still looking at it?

“Check this out.” He tilted his screen toward Zedaph, hoping for help in understanding.

<TangoTek> was killed by <Totem of Dying>

Zedaph scrubbed at the screen with his sleeve, as though the words were just a smudge he could clear away. “Well, what on earth is that supposed to mean? You can’t get killed by a Totem of Undying!” Zed tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well I guess I could bludgeon someone to death with it, but that wouldn’t be very smart of me -”

“No, Zed, not Totem of Undying.” Impulse looked at the screen again, still deep in confusion. “Totem of Dying .”

“But that’s not even a thing! ” Zedaph cried.

“I know,” Impulse said grimly. The two exchanged a glance.

Zed rose to his feet and took out his rockets. “You check sticky bombs, I’ll check the shopping district?”

“Deal.”

Impulse soared over the gaming district, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of life. He still had no idea what that death message could mean - it must be a glitch of some sort, right? It had to be. Either way, the best way to find out was probably to find Tango and ask him. He most likely just got too absorbed in his project and forgot his meeting with Zedaph. Impulse chuckled nervously. He could understand that. He would find Tango, remind him about the meeting, and everything would be fine. Just fine.

He kept telling himself that as he swooped through the tunnel that led to Sticky Bombs, having seen no signs of Tango outside. He landed in the upper room and peered down the drop to the game.

“Tango?”

He listened. The only thing that greeted him was his own echo.

“Tango? You there?” He tried again, louder this time. Still no reply. He was about to turn and leave when finally, he heard something.

If it was a voice, it was so thin and weak that the words could barely climb up the tunnel to reach his ears. Given that he hadn’t been expecting a reply at all, he had no hope of understanding it on the first try. He went perfectly still, listening again, his sense of dread building.

“Please don’t…” If the voice continued, he couldn’t hear it. The heavy feeling in his chest reached its peak.

“ Tango? Is that you?”

The voice gave no reply.

Impulse jumped and slid down the honey drop. He landed in the entryway below, whipping his head around to check for potential threats, but all he saw was a still figure crumpled in a white bed by the wall.

“Please don’t...leave…” The words came in rough gasps, as if each one took more breath than the lungs could hold.

“Oh my god.” Impulse rushed over and gently turned down the sheets.

Tango’s face was ashen pale. The lines around his eyes had deepened, and they were closed tightly shut, as though keeping them open cost more energy than he had to give. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and he could barely lift the hand that reached for Impulse as though desperately trying to keep him there.

“Don’t -”

“I know, I won’t.” Impulse gently pushed his hand back under the blankets. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to call Zedaph, okay? Is that alright?”

Tango nodded silently, keeping his eyes closed.

<ImpulseSV> zed

<ImpulseSV> sticky bombs, now

<ZedaphPlays> you found him?

<ImpulseSV> yeah, it’s bad

<ZedaphPlays> omw

“I was afraid nobody would find me -”

“Shh, save your energy.” Impulse set down an enderchest and dug through it, looking for a healing potion or something else to help. “You can explain when Zed gets here, so you don’t have to say it twice.” Impulse needed to hear what on earth had gone wrong this badly, but he could tell Tango was in no shape for two long explanations. Finding no helpful items in the enderchest, he resigned himself to pacing and waiting for Zed.

Zedaph announced his arrival with a loud crash landing in the upper room. He slid down the honey drop, only mildly scraped up and out of breath, and slowly took in the scene in front of him.

“Oh dear.” Zed stared down at Tango, who still had his eyes closed. “Tango, you said you were going to improve Sticky Bombs? I don’t think this is an improvement.”

Tango let out the barest smile and made a weak effort at slapping Zed’s arm. “I’m…’s not Sticky Bombs’ fault. Not my fault.” He sighed. “Mostly.”

“What was it, then?” Now that Zed was here, Impulse could barely contain himself. He was running through all the possibilities in his mind, and he just couldn’t come up with any scenario that would result in this….

For the first time since Impulse had found him, Tango opened his eyes. Their usually bright red was dull and unfocused, and they were locked on Impulse.

“Impy,” he rasped, “that totem you sold me was messed up.”

Impulse’s heart sank. “What totem? Messed up how?”

“I was working on Sticky Bombs, and I...may have overdone it just a little with the TnT. My totem activated, but it was all darkificated and it - it hurt a lot.” He let his eyes drift shut again. “I respawned here, and I haven’t been able to move since. I couldn’t even get my communicator”

“How could that...I am so sorry.” Impulse went back to pacing and overthinking. “The totems seemed fine when I stocked the shop. You’ll get a refund, of course - I can go back and check them again? I would hate for anyone else to get hurt.”

Zedaph’s brow furrowed. “Did they expire, or what? Did Tango get totem poisoning from using a totem past the best before date?”

“Even if that made any sense, which it doesn’t,” Impulse started. “I just stocked the shop last week. I’ve used totems way older than that and been perfectly fine.”

“I didn’t get it from the shop.”

Impulse glanced down at Tango. “What?”

“I didn’t buy it at ‘Em and ‘Em’s.” Tango pried one eye open again. “I bought it straight from you in the concrete shop, remember?”

“No, I don’t remember, actually. I haven’t been to that shop in at least a month.” Impulse concentrated hard, trying to remember if he’d sold a totem to Tango there earlier in the season. “Unless it was before that...?”

“It was just a few days ago!” Tango gestured halfheatedly, letting his hand fall back onto the bed. “We met up on the path, we talked about whose turn it was to stock the concrete chests, we argued over who would get the profits…?”

Impulse was racking his brains as hard as he could, but he failed to summon any of those memories. The confusion he felt was slowly solidifying into a sinking feeling in his chest. “No, none of that rings a bell.”

“I think it was the same day you visited me,” Zedaph provided.

Impulse froze for a second, then laughed.

“Oh, okay, I get it now,” he chuckled, patting Zed on the back. “Good one guys. You really got me there. You messed up on that last bit though, you know I haven’t been to Zed’s cave in ages. Maybe we can tweak the script a bit and go prank somebody else, see if that works a little better, alright? Let’s -”

None of the others were laughing.

Impulse deflated. “I’m really supposed to remember that?”

Zed laughed uneasily. “Hey, I was the one who got hit on the head while testing the slime canon, not you.”

Impulse started to sweat. He was almost certain that none of these things had happened, he couldn’t recall even the barest hint of any of this, and yet...had he forgotten? He had been really tired lately, before he took his break. Was it possible that two whole interactions were missing from his mind?

The others must be noticing that he had gone quiet. He had to speak up.

“I...guess I must have forgotten.” He laughed nervously. “Busy, you know how things are… Either way, I’m so sorry about this.”

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault.” Tango shifted, trying for a more comfortable position. “My fault for using so much TnT.”

“We both know that’s not true.” No matter what he could or couldn’t remember, the fact remained that Impulse was the only one on the server who sold totems. Tango’s predicament was all because of him. “I’m going to go check every single totem in the shop and make sure that they’re safe. I don’t know how this happened, but it won’t happen again.” He set his mouth in a grim line and headed for the exit.

“I’ll stay here and take care of Tango while you’re gone.”

“I don’t need -”

“Oh yeah?” Zed put his hands on his hips. “Can you stand for me then, please?”

A notable silence filled the room.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Thank you, Zed.” Tango opened his eyes just to roll them at Zedaph. “You’re a jerk, but thanks for staying.”

“I’ll be back with some healing potions or something,” Impulse called on his way out. “Maybe that’ll help.”

He hoped so. His totems were meant to keep his friends safe from harm, give them a second chance in circumstances that would normally be lethal. They were Impulse’s gift, his way of showing that he cared. It stung him beyond measure that a thing he’d sold was causing so much pain.

It stung him even more that he couldn’t remember selling it in the first place.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Uh, not really?” Only the very tips of Tango’s hair poked out from the mass of pillows he was buried under. Zed placed the last one on the heap and fluffed it, extremely proud of himself.

“Did that help?”

“Um...no.” Tango struggled, eventually managing to bat aside a single pillow so his face peeked out of the heap. “I said I was feeling better, you really don’t need to -”

Zed cut him off with a cheerfully pink pillow directly to the face. “No no, it’s no trouble, no trouble at all! Impulse told me to take care of you, so take care of you I will!” He made a dramatic, sweeping gesture that Tango had no hope of seeing with a face full of pink pillow fluff.

“What did you do, steal the pillow off every bed on the server?” Tango said, muffled.

“Well...I did leave Xisuma’s bed alone.”

Tango ejected the pink pillow from the pile so he could speak again. “That’s just because you don’t want to get called in for a ‘short meeting’ again,” he said, slightly out of breath.

Zedaph pointedly ignored that comment and picked up the pillow, tucking it gently behind Tango’s head this time. He straightened the about fifteen other pillows that had been disheveled in the last five minutes and went back to wandering around the room restlessly.

“Can I get you some more water, or food, or -”

“I’m not a houseplant, Zed,” Tango groaned. “I’ve been watered enough!”

Zed sighed and plopped down on the edge of the enderchest. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you!”

Tango rolled over to look at him, dislodging several pillows in the process. “I told you, I’m doing a little better. I don’t feel like death with extra pain sauce anymore! Instead I just feel like regular death!” He chuckled.

Zed let himself laugh along with him. “Less tasty, but probably better for your health in the long run,” he quipped.

“Yeah, can’t imagine that would be very nutritious.”

“Well, hopefully the healing potions will help and you won’t have to find out.” Zed glanced at the clock on his communicator. He was tempted to wonder what was taking Impulse so long, but he already knew that their friend would be checking and double checking every single totem as thoroughly as possible. It would likely be a while yet before he came back. Zed really hoped he wasn’t blaming himself too much for this totem incident - when it came to glitched-out items and that sort of thing, there was really only so much any Hermit could do. Just because he sold the thing didn’t mean this whole mess was his fault. Zed knew he would probably take it that way, though, especially since he didn’t seem to be quite himself lately...Zed’s mind drifted back to Impulse’s sharp words in the cave, and the look on his face when he claimed he couldn’t remember any of it was still fresh in his mind.

As if reading his thoughts, Tango broke the silence. “Hey, is it just me or has Impulse been acting weird lately?”

Zed sighed in relief. “Yeah, I’m glad I’m not just imagining things after the disagreement we had earlier.”

Tango looked shocked. “You and Impulse argued? In seriousness?”

“Well, you know, as much as you can have an argument with Impulse. He’s usually pretty agreeable.” Zed chuckled halfheartedly and stared down at the floor. “I’m probably being too sensitive about it, it’s just that he wasn’t very tactful about one of my contraptions. Said the concept was ‘dull’ and I should just tear it out.”

“So that’s why you wanted my help today?” Tango frowned. “Woah. That doesn’t sound like Impulse.”

“Not really, but I figured the contraption was just that bad…how was he when he sold you the totem?”

Tango paused, seeming to struggle in recalling the details. “He was...nice. Asked about my day, apologised for not stocking the shop...he didn’t seem to remember stocking it, but I know he did.” Tango’s eyes widened as he suddenly remembered one last detail. “Something weird happened when I paid for the totem. It was some kind of lag or a glitch or something, I think I just ignored it at the time…”

Zed leaned forward. “What kind?”

“Some sort of visual thing.” Tango idly poked at the corner of a pillow. “It almost seemed like his eyes were glowing for a second there.”

“Did the totem seem weird at all?”

“No, I don’t think I would have taken it if it had...but we all know I’m not the best at noticing things.”

“Hmm…” Zedaph fell silent, trying to put the pieces together, but it was Tango who came to a conclusion first.

“Zed. Do you think Impulse might be glitched?”

Zedaph stared at him, pondering. It wasn’t unheard of for an error to pop up in one of the Hermits’ code; it happened most often to the part-mob players, but even the fully human ones got unlucky occasionally. It was usually just a little thing like getting a splitting headache or being unable to use Nether portals, though - not glowing eyes and memory loss. And besides...Zed shook his head. No, a glitch couldn’t be it.

“I don’t think we can write someone off as glitched just because they weren’t very nice to me,” Zed countered. “He did say he was tired, and that makes anyone grumpy. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, maybe.”

“That excuse only works with your bed, skippy.” Tango smirked. “And besides, I really don’t think glowing eyes and evil totems are a side effect of sleep deprivation.”

“Maybe not on his end, but when was the last time you had a good nap?” Zed pointed out.

“Five minutes ago.”

“You know what I mean.” Zed gently lobbed another pillow at him. “You yourself said it was probably lag. I think we just need to talk to him and ask him if -”

“Hey guys! Ask me what?”

Without a sound, Impulse dropped into the room.

The two jumped. They exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

“Oh, nothing.” Zed gave a reassuring smile. “Just wondering if you brought regen along with healing. If one doesn’t work, the other might, right?”

A blank look crept across Impulse’s eyes for a moment, before he nodded and gently smacked his forehead. “Ah, right, potions! I must have forgotten that.” His unfailing smile turned sheepish.

“You’re forgetting a lot of things today, Impy. What gives?” Tango shakily propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Impulse pointedly.

“Not the time, not the place!” Zed muttered, but Impulse had already brushed past the comment himself. It was clear that whatever was going on, Zed was right: he didn’t want to discuss it right now.

“Well, what I didn’t forget, is to get you a replacement totem! Can’t have you dying on me, now that you used up the other one.” He tossed the totem to Tango, who utterly failed to catch it.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Zed asked, picking the totem up off the floor. “Did you find out what was wrong with the other ones?”

“Yep!” Impulse’s grin widened. “Absolutely nothing.”

Tango blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, my totems were never the problem. I figure you must have been holding it wrong.”

“ What? ”

“I said you were holding it wrong , Tango. Jeez, did the totem mess with your hearing or something?” A sharp, condescending tone wove its way beneath the friendliness in his voice.

“I didn’t - Impulse, there’s no wrong way to hold a totem.” Tango propped himself up further, leaning on the pillows. “I’ve been using them for years, they work whichever way you -”

“You must have been holding it upside down.” Impulse walked over and grabbed the totem from Zedaph to demonstrate. “If you hold it like this - inverted - it inverts the effects! Come on, this isn’t your first rodeo. Everyone knows that.”

Tango looked speechless. He sputtered for a moment before lamely protesting, “But I wasn’t holding it upside down, I don’t think…”

“Oh, Tango,” Impulse said in a sensible voice. “You must have been. That’s the only way any of this could have happened. You probably don’t remember that well because of the pain and all, but it’s the only logical explanation.”

Tango fell silent. Zedaph wanted to protest, wanted to say that that didn’t sound quite right, are you sure you’ve done your research , but he didn’t know nearly enough about totems to counter the owner of the totem shop. Impulse had been doing this for seasons. Surely he knew best...right?

Impulse walked over to Tango and pressed the totem into his hand with a gentle smile, right side up. “Just be careful not to make such a silly mistake again, okay? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” He adjusted the pillows over Tango and turned to go.

“I’m going to go farm more totems, now that I’m sure they’re working okay. Can’t leave the Hermits in need! I’ll be back later to see how Tango’s doing.” He stepped into the water elevator and shot upwards out of the room.

As he left, Zed could have sworn he saw his eyes glow slightly in the honey-tinted light.

It was a long time before either of them said anything.

“...hey Zed? Is that upside-down totem thing -”

“No.” Zed shook his head, getting more sure by the minute now that Impulse was gone. “No, it’s not.”

“Okay, that’s what I thought, but the way he was talking it really seemed like it was true…” Tango sighed heavily and threw his arm across his face. “Something’s off, Zed. He’s off.”

“I know.” Zed’s heart hurt to admit it, and it hurt even more knowing that he’d been so slow to believe Tango’s theory. “He must be glitched, it’s the only thing that makes sense anymore.”

“I don’t think I should use this totem.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Another long silence passed.

“So? Other than this:” Tango unpeeled his arm from his face and tossed the totem across the room. It settled into the corner with a clatter. “What do we do?”

“What do any of us do when we have a glitch that needs fixing?” Zed took out his communicator and began to type. “We call Xisuma.”

As it turned out, Xisuma was AFK, so Zed had to go get him himself instead of just sending a message.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay down here alone? I don’t really want to leave, what with everything that’s going on...” Zedaph paused at the exit.

Tango squirmed slightly, not comfortable with being worried about. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. What do you think I’m going to do, suffocate in pillows?” He gave a laugh that he hoped hit the target of ‘lighthearted and reassuring’.

Zed grinned, his concern apparently eased. “Honestly, I think you’re in more danger of that if I am here.”

“Go, then, please! Spare me from the horrors of a fluffy demise!” Tango draped an arm across his forehead dramatically. “If this must be the way I die, then use my favourite pillow to mark my grave...avenge me…”

“I don’t think that works if I’m the one killing you!”

“Whatever, go tell someone else to avenge me then.” Tango weakly lobbed a pillow in Zed’s direction. “Or better yet, stop stalling and grab X so we can make sure Impy’s alright!”

“Okay, fine.” Zed started for the elevator and stopped again. “Just promise me you’ll rest!”

Tango chuckled ironically. “Don’t you worry about that, I don’t think I could get up if I wanted to.” He waved goodbye as Zed finally headed for the surface.

Tango had deeply appreciated the company early on, back when he was still scared of being forgotten and left to suffer, but now he just wanted to be alone and get some rest. Each of his limbs felt like they were weighing him down; as though he was drowning in a waterlogged suit, unable to claw for the surface. Now that he was out from under Zedaph’s watchful eye, he finally let himself sink into the bed and fully acknowledge every ache and pain. He hadn’t lied to Zed about feeling better, but... man, better is still pretty damn far from good.  

Even so, attempting to rest got old fast. As tired as he was, he couldn’t quite seem to sleep. Thoughts were running loops around each other in his head: theories about what really went wrong with the totem, possibilities for what unforeseen error could be threatening Impulse, worries that they wouldn’t be able to fix it...what if he was just stuck like that, forever? What if Tango was stuck like this forever, too? He knew the others would help him out if that was the case, he knew he would adapt and find a way to cope, but...he didn’t want to resign himself to that just yet. He shuddered, trying to put his faith in Xisuma’s ability to fix whatever had gone wrong and stop worrying about things he couldn’t control.

His idle overthinking was suddenly interrupted by a long, sticky sound and a light thud as someone slid down the honey entrance and into the room.

“Hey guys! What’s up?”

Tango opened his eyes, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat.

“Impulse?”

The newly arrived Hermit looked tired and concerned, but he summoned up a smile by way of greeting. “I checked out all the totems, and they all seemed alright, so I don’t really know why - wait, where’s Zedaph?”

Tango struggled to prop himself up so he could see his friend more clearly.

“Impulse...how long ago did you check the totems?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “I came straight here from the shopping district, I couldn’t have checked the last one more than two minutes ago. Why? And where’s Zed? I asked him to stay with you…”

“Zed’s fine, he went to get Xisuma. He - “ Tango put out a warning hand in front of himself as Impulse tried to come closer. “Stay back! Just...just stand right there for a minute.”

Impulse’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?”

Tango could see hurt starting to spread across his face, and he was filled with instant regret. He didn’t even entirely know why he was being so cautious, just...nobody knew what was going on right now, and he still remembered the cruel look that had flashed in Impulse’s eyes for a moment when he was there earlier. Tango was alone, weakened, and caught off guard. If the glitch made Impulse violent, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. He hated to even think that that would happen, and yet…the memory of the totem’s agony still burned across his skin. Before him stood the person who was responsible, whether he intended it or not. He could no longer be fully trusted.

“Okay, calm down, let’s just take this slowly,” he said, more for himself than for anyone else. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to tell you I checked the totems and to give you a new one…?” Impulse held out the little gold statue like a peace offering, his expression filled with confusion.

Tango’s heart sank. “You already did that.”

“What?”

“You were just here a few minutes ago. You waltzed in here all confident, told me you checked the totems, said I’d been ‘holding it wrong’, whatever that means, and left. You don’t remember that?” Tango really hoped Zed came back with X soon, so they could finally get to the bottom of this. Whatever was going on here, it obviously went way deeper than they thought. Forgetting what happened last week was one thing, but this was just minutes ago...

By now, Impulse was starting to look downright scared. “I...I never did that. I don’t remember any of that!” He glanced frantically between Tango and the totem he’d apparently delivered, now discarded in the corner. “Please tell me exactly what is going on!”

“I will, don’t worry, just - just try to stay calm,” Tango soothed, aware of how little it must be helping. This was a horrible position for Impulse to be in, and he was sure his clumsy attempts at detective work weren’t making it any easier. “I just want to be sure first.”

“I...okay. Okay, I don’t know what on earth is happening right now, and I don’t know what you need to be sure of, but I trust you.” Impulse shakily sat down on the floor, cross-legged. “What do you need to know?”

“Zed told me what you said to him when you visited. Do you remember that?”

It was the earliest evidence that Tango knew of. He was fairly confident at this point that something was deeply wrong with his friend’s code, but he didn’t want to believe it just yet. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly… This was the only thing he knew that could confirm or deny the theory for sure.

Impulse went pale.

“When?” he said quietly. That was all the answer Tango needed.

He replied gently. “Just a few days ago. He said you argued.”

Tango saw horror reflected in Impulse’s eyes. “I don’t remember any of that,” he whispered.

Tango braced himself and started to explain. “Zed and I were thinking you might be glitched, with all the not remembering things and the...acting strange and all that. He went to go get X so he could help you, or at least start to figure out a plan…”

He trailed off as Impulse buried his head in his hands.

“What do you mean, acting strange.” The words came out muffled, barely audible.

“Impulse…”

He looked up, face tearstained and desperate. “What is wrong with me?”

Impulse’s hands were covered in redstone.

In times like these, what else was he supposed to do with them? When his hands were covered in redstone, his mind was filled with thinking about it, and when his mind was filled with redstone, there was no room left for other thoughts. Like worrying about what he said that he didn’t remember, and about how long this had been going on without him knowing, about whether or not they’d be able to fix it, about the possibility that what happened to Tango was somehow his fault after all, about when Zed and Xisuma would return, about what would happen when they got here, about, about, about -

No. He couldn’t afford to do that right now. He had to keep it together.

He plunged his hands back into the circuitry.

“Hey Tango, are you sure the delay on this clock is supposed to be this long?” he called from inside the inner workings of Sticky Bombs.

“No, it’s not. That’s what killed me last time.” Tango sounded irritated, though Impulse didn’t know if his annoyance was at being asked to answer questions about his redstone for the last hour, or not being able to get up and help himself.

“Okay, I’ll just switch it back to how it used to be then.” He clicked a few repeaters into alternative positions, focusing on their resistance against his fingers and not on - on the things he wasn’t focusing on right now.

He was running out of tasks to do. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Hey, you were trying to add more TnT, right?” He dusted off his hands and peeked out of the machinery so he could see Tango. “Maybe instead of more TnT in the same place, you could double the number of dispensers so the TnT drops in more spots! It’ll be a higher risk of damage to the game, but it might make things a bit more interesting if you -”

“Impulse.” Tango sighed in annoyance, but his eyes were worried. “Are you sure you don’t want to just sit down? If you’re all glitchificated, it might be a good idea to take it easy in case you get sick or something, y’know?”

“But I feel fine.” Impulse hovered in the doorway, not wanting to stop working for long enough to let the thoughts catch up to him. “I don’t feel weird or have any pain or anything.”

Tango shifted, moving aside some pillows to look him in the eyes. “I don’t even know if that’s a good sign or a bad one. None of us know what’s going on here. For all I know, you could completely pass out five minutes from now and I wouldn’t be able to come help you. So maybe it’s a good idea to just sit down and take a breather until X and Zed get here, alright?”

“Okay, just let me finish up over here and then I’ll -” Impulse ducked as a pillow went flying over his head. “Okay! Okay! I’ll come sit down.”

Tango smiled sadly. “You can’t just make me stay put and let Zed take care of me without expecting the same in return, buddy.” He idly tossed a pillow up in the air and caught it. “Not that I’m not absolutely losin’ it just lying here doing nothing.”

“Well, at least you have me to keep you company now.” Impulse finally gave in and sat down on the enderchest, leaning his head back against the wall. “I’ll try my best to be entertaining.”

As it turned out, Tango talked more than enough to fill the quiet and keep Impulse’s worries at bay. They bounced ideas back and forth about Sticky Bombs, discussed Impulse’s new base plans, and generally ignored any and all topics related to the last few days until Zed and Xisuma arrived.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Right, what do we have here?”

Xisuma stood in the middle of the room, the very picture of composure. His calm voice and relaxed stance immediately made Impulse feel just a little better about the situation, just a little more safe. Help is here. We’re going to figure it out together. Everything will be okay. Zedaph stood behind X by the entrance, looking significantly less reassured. Impulse gave him a little wave and a nod of thanks for bringing X over.

The admin walked over to Impulse and looked him up and down. “So, Zedaph tells me you’re glitched. Is that right?”

Impulse shrugged and stared at the ground. “I...I feel fine, but I’ve been forgetting things.”

Xisuma cocked his head. “Like what?”

“Not just normal forgetful things.” Impulse scuffed at the ground with his boot. “Things I really should know about, things I’ve done or said that I just can’t picture at all.”

X hummed in sympathy. “Goodness me. That doesn’t sound like any glitch I’ve ever seen before.” He glanced over at the bed Tango lay in as if noticing him for the first time. “And what on earth happened to Tango?”

“That’s…” Tango waved his hand weakly. “That’s a discussion for not right now.”

“Oooookay…” Impulse could see that Xisuma was trying to calculate which of the usual Team ZIT shenanigans could cause this much damage, but he managed to hold his questions and turned back to examine him more closely. “Well, you look alright. None of your limbs are stuck in a block or anything, which makes you lucky compared to most glitched out peeps. Zed says you’ve been acting a bit different than usual?”

“Again, I don’t remember any of that.” Impulse glanced over at Zed, who squirmed in embarrassment. “If I have, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zed said quietly. “I just want you to be alright.”

Xisuma squinted his eyes behind his visor, like he always did when he was trying to solve a problem. “So you don’t remember anything, you feel alright, you look alright...jeez, this is a tough one. You were acting just fine when you sold me this totem an hour ago. I’m going to have to take a real close look at the code, try to see what’s…”

Xisuma’s words faded into the background.

Impulse’s eyes locked onto the totem.

The rest of the world seemed to blur into two dimensional shapes, his reality pinching together at a single point of focus. He stared at the totem, unaware of anything other than how deeply wrong it felt - crooked somehow in its core, corrupted, malicious. It felt like something that shouldn’t exist in their world, and now more than ever, Impulse was certain that this thing had never passed through his shop. It was entirely other . The Impulse that sold these to his friends was never him.

He remembered Evil Xisuma. He remembered hearing word of Helsknight. He remembered the unsettling experience he and his friends had had in Decked Out, the man who looked like Tango but wasn’t, the one who spat lies and claimed he would erase his alter and replace him… As the outside world slowly faded back into perception, Impulse began to form a theory.

“Alright, so everything seems up to snuff with your player code, but I could take a deeper look at the lines that guide your actions to see if there’s anything -”

“It’s not me,” Impulse blurted.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not me. It’s not me who’s acting all weird and selling these messed-up totems.” A wave of relief washed over Impulse as he said it, strong enough to almost bring tears to his eyes. I’m not sick. I’m not broken. None of this is my fault. “I think there’s someone out there pretending to be me, someone like Helsknight or that guy we ran into in Decked Out.”

Tango propped himself up on an elbow, confusion and horror dawning on his face. “Wait, but how would - oh.” His eyes widened. “ Oh . Oh no.”

Xisuma looked a little more skeptical. “I haven’t whitelisted anyone who would pretend to be Impulse, and besides - wait, what’s this about a guy in Decked Out?”

Zedaph, Tango, and Impulse exchanged a glance. “Uh, we, um, I mean...put that on our list of things to tell you later…” Zed stammered.

X took his helmet off and massaged his temples. “Will do, will do...you can bet I’m not going to forget about that…”

“Anyway, you didn’t whitelist Helsknight either,” Tango pointed out. “These guys obviously have a different way in than the rest of us.”

“But the Impulse I talked to looked exactly the same as our Impulse…”

“Not all of us have a conveniently colour-coded nemesis, X,” Zed said. “Some of us have to make due with just regular ol’ nemeses.”

“Based on what’s happened previously, I didn’t think an evil alter would be this subtle.” X picked up his helmet and fastened it back onto his head. “Those scoundrels tend to have quite the sense of drama, and this is really not saying ‘epic plot of untold destruction’ to me.”

Impulse’s heart sank at the possibility that his theory could be wrong. Maybe whatever glitch he was experiencing was making him delusional, clinging to strange ideas, unable to see the truth…but he couldn’t give up just yet.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” All eyes turned to him.

He got up from his seat and began to pace the room. “Leave me in my base for a day. Take my elytra if you have to. Make sure I can’t leave, even if I am glitched and I don’t realize what I’m doing. Then, if you see an Impulse at any time during that day, you’ll have official confirmation that it isn’t me. If you don’t, you’ll know that something really is broken about me. Deal?” He stood still and turned to face them.

The other three looked at each other, calculating the odds. Impulse could tell that Tango in particular was trying to find a plan that didn’t involve leaving him with no means of escape when an evil clone could be on the loose, but apparently, he wasn’t successful. He lay back down on the bed and sighed.

“That sounds like a plan, but we need to be careful. It’s dangerous to underestimate these people.”

Xisuma still looked doubtful, but agreed regardless. “I’ll fly with you to your base and make sure you have no easy way out. I don’t like it, but it is only for a day... What could go wrong?”

Zedaph smacked his hand into his forehead dramatically. “Oh, you should not have said that…”

Impulse gulped. He was very much inclined to agree.

Reflex’s brain itched with unfinished business.

Even though two more Totems of Dying had been released and two more lives were ripe for the taking, it wasn’t enough. He’d been a coward. He had buckled, taking his chance to escape before taking full advantage of all the opportunities given to him. It was justified - he had felt the tension in the room, felt that he had gone too far - but he still couldn’t accept that he had run up against his limits. He did not do things by half measures. He had failed.

He had left without giving the other one - Zaph? Zepaff? Zedaph. - a totem. Even though he knew it was just one person, that he could make up for it with a second pass when his position was more stable and suspicions were low, he could not leave the error standing. The thought of that unclaimed life burned in the back of his mind, like looking at a single misplaced block in an otherwise perfect build.

Reflex turned his own totem over and over in his hands, admiring its shine, letting it soothe him. It wasn’t enough, but it was enough for now. It would keep him safe in the interim. He would continue to evade the jaws of death, flee from the consequences of his fatal error, live to run another con. He would not die. He could not die. For him, there was no choice.

He pulled the mask back up over his face and stood. The urge to pursue the goal nipped at the back of his mind still, and he could wait no longer. He had to return, and soon - but he must be careful.

They suspected something. He knew it. He had been far too sloppy in hiding his joy at claiming another life, and in hiding his rage at seeing that his first victim had been found so soon and guarded so closely. He had tipped them off. He was supposed to have room to cheat at least a dozen more Hermits before anyone caught his bluff. He was supposed to have more time.

In that, a second reason to return. He would have to go back and smooth things over. His cover could still be salvaged.

Reflex strode to the end of the Mycelium Resistance hallway and stepped into the water elevator. The cold whoosh of the bubbling liquid still unnerved him, but he gritted his teeth and endured it. Water did not exist in the place he called home. Some had tried to retrieve it from the Overworld on occasion - Helsknight most recently - but as soon as it was released from its container it vapourized and blew away, a poor prize for a failed mission. He relished the memory of how deeply he drank from a lake when he first broke through to this world, but he would never quite get used to the water’s feel on his skin.

He stepped out of the elevator and darted through the secret entrance, checking many times before he did so to make sure no Hermits were in sight. If anyone caught him doing something even slightly out of character, this whole plan would shatter around him like so much brittle glass. He would be cut to pieces by its collapse. He could not afford to fail.

As soon as he could be sure of his safety, he activated his stolen elytra and took to the skies. Typing the command as he flew, he made sure to disguise himself fully before spiralling to a halt in the minigame district.

He took second to center himself before entering. He was ready for this. He had watched Impulse’s every move for weeks, using invisibility and treading softly, memorizing his every habit and gesture and irritating quirk. He had practiced them over and over again, barely sleeping, until he was sure he could stand up to an examination even by his alter’s closest friends. He had done so before, and he would do so again, until everything had fallen into place and he could walk away unscathed.

He was ready. He cleared his mind of every thought and feeling but for one:

I am Impulse.

The smile felt awkward and unnatural on his face, but he wore it like a trophy of war.

He slid down the honey chute and began his performance.

“Hi guys! I just realized that Zed doesn’t have a totem! He probably should, given that he’s testing new contraptions and all.” Reflex widened his smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes just so. Happy, trustworthy, friendly, concerned. Emotions were so easy to seize and control. Just another project, mastered by the endless grind.

He casually walked over to the enderchest and set a handful of totems down on the lid. “I brought a few extra just in case. Probably overkill, but after what happened to Tango, I think you guys could use a little extra peace of mind.” He forced a laugh. “Between TnT and contraptions, you guys really don’t have much sense of self-preservation, do you?”

He stopped in place as he realized that neither of the two Hermits present were answering.

“Guys?” He turned, maintaining Impulse’s grin as a tight dread grew in his chest.

Zedaph was backed up into a corner, staring at him with nothing but the purest horror on his face. He slowly reached down, feeling for his communicator, likely about to call for help. Beside him, Tango stirred. Although still pale and weakened, his eyes burned with a red fury that seemed to pierce through Reflex’s very soul. With a small grunt of effort, he sat up in bed.

Slowly, every limb shaking with exhaustion, Tango swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood to his full height. His eyes never left Reflex for a second. He drew a netherite sword from his inventory, heaving it upwards until the razor-sharp blade pointed straight between Reflex’s eyes.

“ You’re not Impulse, ” he snarled.

Reflex bolted.

He raced for the exit and shot up the elevator, every last element of his disguise sloughing off him like wet paper. All of the mannerisms, the information, the smile, everything - all were meaningless now. His con had been revealed. He had been utterly exposed.

He tore around the corner and out the entrance, noting the lack of pursuit. Something was delaying them - probably Tango. At the very least, he would have time to get away. Still, there was no way he could possibly recover from this. All the months - no, years of work, every person he had manipulated and everything he had sacrificed...it would all go to waste. His heart raced like that of a cornered animal.

As he took out his rockets and launched into the air, all that fear and panic hardened into a cold resolve.

He was wrong. There was one way he could still prevent his fate. One way to ensure that no matter what, he could stay Impulse forever and no one would ever question him.

He drew his sword and set his coordinates for Impulse’s base. No amount of totems could save his alter now.

Impulse was pacing again.

Different setting, same activity. Same restlessness and overthinking as before, but at his base this time instead of in Sticky Bombs. He was grateful for the extra space - it helped to feel less like the walls were closing in on him - but once again he was left with nothing to do but obsess over everything that could be going wrong.

Xisuma had asked him about five times if he would be okay before leaving him there, taking his elytra and any wood that he could use to make a boat. Technically, he supposed he could just swim to the shore of the shopping district and cause harm there, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to. He still felt like himself, entirely in control of his own actions - if not of the situation in general. He had reassured X that he would be just fine, but the masked man could see straight through his own disguise to the uncertainty beneath. He was worried, and he could tell Xisuma knew it.

Still, Tango was right - as hesitant as they all were, this was the best plan under the circumstances.

Impulse got to the other end of his base for the fifteenth time and turned around, focusing on the tap of his boots against the floor rather than his racing thoughts. It was just one day. One day spent with nothing to do, and then either the others would see some evil Not-Impulse and take care of him, or they would confirm the glitch and get started on fixing it. Either way, the situation would be resolved. It would be okay.

He heaved a deep sigh, finally pausing in his nervous motion. Yes, just one day, but what was he supposed to do with himself? He was used to constant action, placing blocks, tearing them down, placing them anew...always a project to work on, always the next one to think about. He almost wished Xisuma had left him with some small task, something to keep him occupied. Frustrated, he began to pace again.

A second set of echoing footsteps joined his own.

“Xisuma? You’re back!” Impulse turned toward him, hand already half-raised in greeting. “I was just thinking about how you…”

The newcomer was not Xisuma.

Impulse locked eyes with a man who was, for all intents and purposes, in every thread of clothing and every facial detail and the set and pace of every step, himself. His blood ran cold.

“Who are you,” he forced out, taking a step backward.

The figure didn’t answer.

“What do you want?”

The other Impulse stayed silent. His footsteps were a steady beat against the floor, rhythmic and unfailing. The only other sound was the scrape of his sword as he dragged the tip along the glass, kicking up a trail of sparks behind him.

Impulse drew his own blade.

“Why are you here?”

Step.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Scrape.

Impulse realized that his earlier observation was a lie. The man did not look exactly like him. The eyes were wrong.

Step.

“We can talk about this.”

The other Impulse paused, and thick, vibrating stillness permeated the air.

For a second, both of them held their breath. Then, the clone lunged.

Impulse dove to the right as the first powerful swing barely missed his throat. He stumbled, recovered, pulled his sword up to defend himself. The next hit vibrated through his bones as he blocked it, sending shooting pains up his arm. He made a mental note to dodge instead next time.

“What do you want!” he repeated, shouting now. He could survive a battle if he needed to, but PvP was far from his strong suit. He did not want this fight.

The other stayed eerily silent. His eyes passed over Impulse coldly, for only a moment, as though measuring him. He took a step back and charged once again.

Impulse retreated from a volley of long, heavy strokes. He regained his footing and squared his stance, noticing that the tip of his sword was already shaking. I need to calm down. He frantically tried to center himself, to focus on finding his opponent’s tells.

Another series of blows rained down. The attacks came in short, heavy bursts - exactly the way Impulse fought. He used wide, sweeping strokes - exactly like Impulse did. Impulse barely ducked another blow, feeling the rush of air pass over his head. He was fighting himself. How was he ever supposed to win?

He had to stop playing defense. Time for a new plan. He leaned in to the next sweep, ducking inside the other’s guard and slashing across the bicep. Pain flared in his alter’s eyes. He swept Impulse’s legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Impulse rolled away just in time. The next strike drove full force into the floor, shattering the glass.

Impulse scrambled to his feet and lept, pressing his advantage. He attacked in short jabs and quick turns, the movements awkward and unfamiliar, but he needed to switch up his strategy if he had any hope of victory. He was already breathing hard, and sweat pooled at the back of his neck. This man may fight exactly like Impulse, but he realized with dread that he was slightly better at it.

The clone blocked each one of Impulse’s stabs and swept out a leg, trying again to bring him to the ground. Impulse jumped to avoid it, then rushed to block a swing he had been unprepared for. He shouted and pushed back against the blade, forcing a few more blocks distance between them.

“ What do you want from me!”

The silence was unnerving him. Even worse, his alter’s face showed nothing that would give a hint as to his true motives. His face was a blank and emotionless mask.

Impulse’s own face twisted in frustration. If this person wanted a fight with no reason and no thought for solving things peacefully, then he could have one. He readied his sword and prepared for the next attack.

The surprise on the other Impulse’s face was brief, but it was real. Impulse pressed forward, dealing hit after hit, noticing when the other’s breathing turned harsh and desperate. The tides had turned.

“Go away ,” - he slashed - “and we don’t” - he parried - “have to do this!”

He lashed out one last time, channeling all his frustration into one stroke. He didn’t really expect it to land - all evidence up until now suggested that he was outmatched. He was shocked when the edge of the blade buried itself in his alter’s side.

Not-Impulse fell to his knees. His totem erupted in a shower of black and red sparks, the smell of ozone searing through the air as they settled. Impulse barely had time to register that the totem hadn’t disappeared before the other man looked up. His eyes burned cold with renewed fury, and he didn’t even wait for the damage to regenerate before he lunged back into the fight.

Impulse felt his advantage turn to dust as he forced himself back into the deadly dance. React, dodge, attack, move . His limbs were growing sluggish, his motions sloppy. He was running out of steam. He desperately wished that he knew something, anything that would allow him to negotiate, but he had next to no information to work with. He ducked a swipe and retaliated with a clumsy backhanded swing, clashing against his opponent’s next strike.

The two blades locked. The other Impulse’s gaze bored into him above the crossed swords, and finally, he spoke.

“If I win, your friends won’t notice the change.”

Impulse stumbled.

A hot line of pain lanced across his shoulder as the blades slipped. He drew a short gasp and staggered backward, giving himself time to regenerate. His health ticked back up to full as he crouched and prepared to defend again, but even with all his hearts regained, the cut continued to sting. He spared a single glance downward.

Blood still spilled out over his armour, and a grim coldness was spreading from the wound. It felt wrong - like the totem had back in Sticky Bombs. Impulse swallowed hard. He had never felt this effect before, but he was sure that whatever it was, it wasn’t good. It would be wise to avoid getting hit again.

“You’ve made yourself too easy to imitate, man. Too quiet, too hardworking, too nice .” His alter moved towards him, a twisted grin curling across his face as he drawled out a perfect imitation of Impulse’s own voice. “You haven’t let them see anything about you that would differentiate you from a copy.”

“That’s not true.” Impulse did his best to block as the clone swung, but the parry was off balance. The blade slid and scraped across his shin. His breath caught. “You’re just like Tango’s evil self - you lie.” He swept his sword out in a wide arc. “You lie and you separate us from our friends because you’re too much of a coward to take us on together.”

“I wouldn’t need to take you on if you had kept to yourself and minded your own business,” the other Impulse hissed. “We could have done this entirely violence-free. Now it’s kill you or go back to Hels the hard way, and I’d rather kill a thousand of you than do that.” He glowered as if he had said too much, making up for it by doubling his efforts. Blow after blow rained down on Impulse. Block, dodge, block, strike - too slow. The blade nicked his cheek. His strategy wasn’t working.

Time for a new one. Impulse quickly scanned his inventory, then reached for a block of sand and sprayed a handful into his opponent’s face. It was a low move, but so was attacking a man in his own home without reason. He used the opportunity to run for his storage system as the other Impulse clawed at the grit in his eyes.

He careened around the corner and switched to his pickaxe, hacking away at the blocks beside the chests. He ripped two from the wall and folded himself into the gap. A few smears of blood stained the quartz as he replaced it, and he desperately hoped it would go unseen.

Softly, carefully, he crawled among the redstone circuits of his sorting system, trying to stifle his panting breaths. He could hear faint footsteps and the scrape of metal on glass outside as the other Impulse searched for him. After a search that felt like it took forever, he finally found a decent hiding spot between a hopper and a redstone torch. Wedging himself into the dimly lit gap, he took out his communicator and started to type.

<impulsesv> at my base

<impulsesv> anyone who can

<impulsesv> please come quick

He closed his eyes, feeling the cold, pulsing pain of his injuries. It felt as though his life was slowly draining out of them, evaporating into the air like so much worthless smoke. Whatever enchantment was on that sword, he hoped he never had to come in contact with it again.. He was filled with the creeping terror that if that blade killed him, he wouldn’t be coming back.

His communicator dinged, and his heart soared. He checked to see which of his friends would be coming to his rescue.

<impulsesv> don’t listen to him

<impulsesv> he’s an evil clone

<impulsesv> I’m being attacked

No…. He hadn’t sent that. His heart plummeted again as he realized the other Hermits would have no way to tell his messages apart from those of his alter, no evidence for who to believe…. He typed desperately, knowing it would be no use.

<impulsesv> no!

<impulsesv> he’s lying!

<impulsesv> I’m the real Impulse!

<Grian> wat

<ZombieCleo> holy shit

<Welsknight> are you okay?

<impulsesv> someone please help

<Cubfan135> did Impulse get hacked?

<impulsesv> please, anyone

<impulsesv> don’t worry everything’s fine

<impulsesv> just a little tech issue :D

<impulsesv> Quickly, I don’t have much time

Impulse switched off the communicator and buried his head in his arms. Surely someone would come to investigate. Surely someone would realize what was wrong. The thought of being left here to be slowly hunted down without any way to escape made him want to cry.

He never got the chance. The hopper behind him burst into shards of metal, and he was pulled roughly backwards into his storage room.

The air burst from his lungs in a rush as his back hit the floor. He begged his body to move, run, scream, anything - but he was badly winded and dazzled by the sudden bright light. A hand clamped hard around his throat and lifted him into the air.

“I took the liberty of dipping into your emergency storage,” the other Impulse sneered. “You’re very well prepared, y’know. I found everything I needed.” The scent of strength potions wafted on his breath.

Impulse felt a rib crack as the other slammed him up against his storage chests, feet still dangling off the ground. He wheezed and clawed at his throat, lungs burning for air.

“I made foolish mistakes at first, I’ll admit.” The alter spoke softly, never breaking eye contact. Never losing his smile. “But now that I know what tips them off, what I need to avoid, I’m sure I’ll do much better.” He tightened his grip. “You see, I already am you, Impulse. The only thing left for me to do is destroy all evidence that would suggest otherwise.”

In the corner of his darkening vision, Impulse saw him draw back his sword.

He realized that he was about to die.

Zedaph caught Tango just as his knees gave out.

“What were you trying to do ,” he demanded as his friend’s sword clattered to the floor. The image of him standing up to the copy of Impulse was still fresh in Zed’s mind - brave, yes, but incredibly dangerous. “Were you planning to fight him? In your state? You’re lucky he ran away, he might have killed both of us...” He hauled Tango upright and slung his arm over his shoulders, helping him back to the bed.

Tango frantically tried to push Zed away, but given that Zed was the only thing keeping him upright at the moment, it didn’t work very well. “What are you doing? What are you doing ? Leave me and go after him, you can still catch up!”

“Are you out of your mind?” Zed resisted his weak struggles and set him down gently. “You have no idea what he might be able to do! Remember how Evil X could summon lightning and turn people into coal where they stood?” He looked his friend in the eyes. “Tango, we’re the only ones who know what’s going on. We need to stay safe so we can warn the others.”

“But we wouldn’t need to warn people if we’d stopped him!” Tango tried to sit up but fell back, out of breath. “Gah, why didn’t you go after him…!”

Zed avoided Tango’s accusing glare. “I wouldn’t have caught up anyway.” I was afraid. “We need to call X so he can come take care of things properly instead of us waving swords about on our own like idiots!” It was like him but not quite him and it scared me. The excuses felt like ashes in Zed’s mouth. He was probably right - he wouldn’t have caught up, Not-Impulse had too much of a head start - but he wasn’t right for the right reasons. He had been shaken. He had been too petrified to move.

As reckless as his confrontation had been, Zedaph almost envied Tango’s courage.

“Alright, so call Xisuma then, quickly!” Tango sighed in frustration and tugged at his hair with both hands. “That guy is headed off to who knows where to do who knows what and nobody knows what’s happening…”

As Tango’s complaints faded into silence, Zed took a seat on the floor and typed out a hurried alarm to Xisuma. As soon as he finished typing, he buried his head in his hands.

A long, still, dread-filled minute passed where neither of them spoke.

“Zed.”

Zedaph finally raised his head. Now that he’d let the mask of anger and urgency drop from his face, Tango looked exhausted and thoroughly shaken, more than he’d ever shown when Not-Impulse was actually here. He didn’t have to say a word. Zed understood.

Tango started to gather himself to speak again. “That guy…”

“I know.” Zed pushed his hair back from his forehead and sighed. “He was…”

“Creepy, weird, screwed up, wrong, awful,” Tango offered.

“Unsettling,” Zed finished. “It...it really kind of got to me.”

“Yeah.” Tango let out a breath he’d been holding for a long time. “Me too.”

They both sat in silence again for a few moments more, providing unspoken comfort to each other until Xisuma arrived. Zed knew they would have to talk about it more later - these experiences don’t just go away on their own - but he didn’t want to do it without Impulse there. He couldn’t even imagine how rough this was going to be on him, when all was said and done.

Finally, Xisuma swept into the room. He was all business, strapping on a shield with one hand and scrolling through his communicator with the other.

Zedaph’s whole body sagged in relief when he saw him. “X, we were just waiting here and Impulse showed up except it wasn’t Impulse it was the other Impulse and -”

“I know,” X said distantly, still scrolling. “Have you checked chat recently?”

Zed got a sinking feeling. They hadn’t - they’d been too busy worrying and sending their own messages to Xisuma. He pulled out his own communicator and skimmed through the lines of text, eyes widening as he saw what seemed to be Impulse desperately contradicting himself over and over again.

“He’s at his base,” he breathed. “The other Impulse is going to try and…” He looked up to see Xisuma staring out from behind his visor with a matching horrified expression.

“We have to go stop him.” The words were a vow, a grimly inflexible goal. Xisuma would not let another friend be hurt by evil in his world.

“I know.” Zedaph reluctantly hefted his sword, deeply dreading the thought of exchanging blows with that unsettling copy. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to hit a person who looked exactly like Impulse, and besides, he was pretty sure even regular Impulse could beat him in a straight fight. Thankfully, though, this wasn’t going to be a 1-on-1. Zed secretly hoped that Xisuma would be able to pull most of the weight.

X tucked away his communicator and strode for the exit, a grim look in his eyes. Zed’s attempt to follow him was stopped by a vicelike grip clamping down on his wrist.

“I’m coming with you.” Tango’s eyes burned like the deepest pool of lava, determined and unyielding.

Zedaph failed to suppress a nervous laugh. “No, you’re not, man. You can’t even stand.”

Tango struggled to sit up, not letting go of Zed’s wrist for a moment. “I know. That’s why you’re going to piggyback me.”

Zed choked. “What?”

“I said, piggyback me!” Tango crossed his arms and glared at him in a way that might have been comedic, if it weren’t for the situation at hand. “Don’t get me wrong, if you drop me you’ll be hearing about it for the rest of the season, but no way am I letting you go fight I’m-A-Jerkface-Pulse alone!”

“While flying? ”

“You’ll figure it out!” Tango threw his arms in the air. “Up. Now.”

“Fiiine,” sighed Zedaph, at the exact same time Xisuma said “Absolutely not.”

Zed glanced back and forth between the two of them, indecisive for just a moment. Then, he quickly hoisted Tango onto his back before X could protest and wobbled unsteadily toward the elevator. Tango latched on with a death grip, sticking his tongue out at Xisuma as they passed.

X sighed. “Fine, but please, be careful.”

“Wouldn’t be anything else,” Zed said innocently. He activated his rockets and sped off towards Impulse’s base, Xisuma following close behind and Tango holding on for dear life.

They flew in silence, partially hoping for the element of surprise and partially because their pace against the wind forced their words back down their throats. And, of course, partially out of worry. The messages in chat had stopped abruptly a few minutes ago, and Zedaph was worried they wouldn’t get there in time to stop...what? What type of danger did Not-Impulse even pose? Zed felt like he was teetering on the edge of a drop of unknown depth, like none of them had any clue what they were getting into. It was that, the unknown, that made this so terrifying. When they arrived, they had no idea what to expect.

Even with that in mind, what they found when Impulse’s base finally came into view was more confusing than Zedaph could have ever predicted.

The three of them spiraled to lose momentum and swooped in through one of Impulse’s water doors, Tango already shouting his name. As they entered, Zed saw movement and heard an echoing crash and a strangled cry from the other end of the base. He squinted to see two figures battling, one pinned up against Impulse’s storage chests, the other holding him up off the floor by the throat. He started to run over, draw his sword, help in some way, but he couldn’t tell which one of them was real and which was fake…the last thing he wanted was to stab the wrong Impulse.

Beside him, Xisuma seemed to have no such hesitations. He landed in a crouch and drew his bow.

Impulse had always known that when death came for him, he would want to look it in the eye.

He’d thought about it a lot. When you do the things that Impulse does, when you sell totems and farm Withers and live in hardcore worlds where the end of life is not just a fleeting, inconvenient thing, Death nests in your thoughts like a bird in the rafters. He’d always thought he would want to know what got him, to see the force that was about to erase his ideas and feelings and memories from the universe forever. He thought he would want to look.

Today, he discovered he was wrong.

He squeezed his eyes tight shut as the sword came down.

And opened them again when he never felt the blow. He looked just in time to find his alter staring off to the side at something Impulse couldn’t see, a deadly glare on his face. Both of them startled as an arrow suddenly zipped between them, forcing the other Impulse to step back. Impulse fell to his knees, clutching at his throat and gasping for air through the shooting pain in his ribs.

“Stop!” Xisuma’s voice rang throughout the base, and Impulse’s heart sang.

Help was here. It was over. He would finally be safe.

“Step away from each other, slowly please.” X walked towards them, another arrow already notched and drawn. Behind him, Impulse could just barely see Zedaph carrying Tango on his back, both of them looking confused and unsure of how to proceed.

He took a few more deep breaths and struggled to his feet, you’re here and thank you on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my goodness , you won’t believe what just happened!”

His words died in his mouth as the other Impulse spoke first.

The imposter limped toward X and the others, playing up his few injuries, the very picture of pity and gratefulness. “I stayed at my base exactly like you told me to, but he got here before me, and he started attacking me - I’m just so glad you’re here.” He widened his eyes in innocent alarm. “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you’d been just a little bit later.”

“Well, you seemed to be winning,” Tango said dryly, glancing over the copy’s shoulder at Impulse - who was likely visibly swaying on his feet, from the feel of it. His heart climbed a little further out of the panic it had sunk into at the thought that Tango might recognise him as the real him, as his friend.

It plummeted again just as quickly.

“Well, I was winning, until he threw a poison potion on me.” The other Impulse spread his arms wide, and as Impulse watched, the colour of the strength particles seemed to fade to sickly green before his eyes. From the reactions of his friends, they seemed not to have noticed the way the effect looked before the illusion took hold. His alter glared at him out of the corner of his eye, smile ever fixed and unmoving. “He must have taken it from my storage system. You don’t really think a knockoff pretender could beat a Hermit in a fight without cheating, do you?”

The other three fell into thoughtful confusion. X let his bow relax slightly, though he still kept the arrow notched.

Impulse finally got the breath to speak. “Please, believe me, he’s lying -”

“I am not the liar here.” Impulse cringed as the copy’s calm, precise, Impulse-ish words contrasted against his own breathless panic. “Why do you think he only spoke up after I did? He’s just here to contradict me, to try and make you doubt me after I’ve already told the truth!” He pointed back at Impulse. “You should know better! He’s just like the other evil clones - he’s nothing on his own. He only exists to destroy me.”

“I am not the clone!” Impulse tried his best to regulate his tone into something level and half believable, but it still came out in a desperate, pained shout. “Come on, ask me something only the real Impulse would know! I can tell you anything - about my farms, about the server, about you - anything - “ His voice cracked on the last word.

Tango tilted his head for a moment, considering. Even at this distance, Impulse could see that his eyes were flicking desperately between the two as he thought of a question.

“What did I get you for Christmas this year?” Tango asked.

“Quartz,” the two Impulses asked in perfect sync.

“Why were you invited to Hermitcraft?” Xisuma posed.

“To help build a -”

“To help you build a witch farm,” the copy interrupted smoothly. “There were four witch huts - I built one farm, you built another, Mambo built the third, and Tango built the fourth.” Impulse’s hope died a little more as he watched Tango nod as though remembering.

“Zed?” he asked desperately.

Zedaph stared deep into his eyes, as though trying to read his mind, as though trying to figure out which Impulse was which by sheer force of will alone. Impulse ached for him. He knew how horribly Zed hated picking sides, knew how awful it made him feel. Knew how much worse it was, knowing he was about to pick wrong.

“What was the latest farm you built?”

“Slime,” the other Impulse answered, before he had a chance to say a word.

Zedaph nodded. He and Xisuma exchanged a wordless glance, something silent passing between them that Impulse could not identify. A look flashed across Zedaphs face that could have been uncertainty, could even have been regret...but he still turned and pointed an accusing finger straight at Impulse. “That one is the fake.”

Impulse felt as though every bit of air had just been sucked out of his lungs. “No, please,” he rasped as Xisuma stepped forward, took out his sword, held it to his throat, looking at him with fear, with anger, Zed and Tango taking shelter behind him - no, no, no, this isn’t fair, this isn’t right…. The world spun around him and his eyes stung, on the edge of tears. He took step after step backwards, until his back hit the wall. “You have it all wrong…”

“ Finally, we can put that behind us.” Blurrily, he saw the new Impulse walk over to Tango and Zedaph, steps long and slow, victorious and relaxed. His smile persisted, unfailing as ever. “I’m so happy you guys didn’t fall for that. After all, you know me better than anyone, right?” He glanced over his shoulder, and his gaze bored into Impulse. See how they abandoned you. See how I won.

Impulse slowly slid down the wall to sit defeated on the floor. Xisuma, though still guarded, let him.

Distantly, numbly, he heard Zedaph laugh in relief. “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted. How about we go work on my new contraption to calm down a little? Since you said it needs improvement.”

At the edge of Impulse’s perception, something about the sentence sounded...tense. Loaded. He looked up. Blurred as his vision was, he saw a faint twitch in Zedaph’s expression as the copy nudged his arm with his elbow and smiled. “Sure thing! I think you really need it, buddy. No offense, but that thing -”

Dead space hung where the end of the sentence would be.

Silence.

Impulse froze in shock. Where the clone once stood, there was nothing but open air.

Reflexv was banned from the server.

Xisuma closed his admin screens and neatly snapped his communicator shut. 

Impulse raised his head and stared in disbelief at the place his alter used to inhabit. He turned his gaze to Tango, looking relieved, to Zedaph, staring in disgust at his arm where Not-Impulse - Reflexv, apparently? - had touched, to Xisuma, sheathing his sword and reaching to help him up with an apology in his eyes.

“That’s the best way to deal with people like that,” Xisuma said softly. “Don’t let them speak any more than you need to. Don’t give them time to twist your thoughts around.”

Impulse nodded, but he still felt thoroughly unbalanced. It had all happened so fast…

“Wh...what was that,” he stammered as he let X gently pull him to his feet.

“I’m so sorry, I just needed to make sure...” Zed took a step closer, staring at him as though doubtful that he was still there, as though it was too good to be true. “I felt like that wasn’t the real you, from the moment we got here, but I couldn’t just act on instinct. I needed to pick one of you to see how you both reacted... Goodness, I’m just glad you’re okay!” Unable to contain himself any longer, he dropped Tango and just about tackled Impulse into a hug.

“Ow! Nnh...not so hard,” Impulse wheezed as he patted his friend on the back.

“Sorry, sorry!” Zed let go so suddenly Impulse almost fell. “I hope I didn’t hurt you - !”

“It’s okay, I’ll live,” Tango interjected from his position flat on his back on the floor. “I may be scarred for life, but I’ll live.”

Impulse laughed, then winced. “I’d hug you too, Tango, but I’m not sure I can take another one.” He limped over and set himself down beside Tango anyway, gathering him up in a gentle embrace. Zedaph ran over to join them, skidding to a halt on the glass floor and tackling Impulse slightly more gently this time. The two clung to him like they were making sure he was real, that he still truly existed, that he wasn’t a ghost. He shuddered as he remembered how close he had come to that reality, but decided not to think about it. The time for conflict and stress and overthinking was over. It would need to be addressed, questions asked, measures taken, fears processed...but later. Not today. Now was for comfort. Now was for kindness. Now was for knowing that, finally, after all that had gone wrong, he could safely rest.

The sky was bright and blue in the way only a mountain sky can be, its eggshell perfection broken solely by Tango as he soared over Zedaph’s base. The crisp air stung his cheeks as he hit the target on the first try - yep, definitely the first try, no extra attempts at all - and spiraled into the cave. He landed with only a slight stumble this time. Progress.

It had taken him a good week or so to fully walk on his own again, even longer to fly without unpredictably weaving back and forth. The Totem of Dying had certainly taken its toll on him, but at least he’d had company in his recovery. With rest and many healing potions, Impulse’s unusual injuries had faded as well, leaving only scars. They were an unfamiliar sight to most of them, who were used to seamless regeneration, but from what Impulse had described...scars were the best case scenario after that encounter. Tango was glad the strange blade hadn’t inflicted any worse damage on his friend.

They had stayed in Zed’s cave for the first little while - in theory so that Zed could look after them, but mostly so he wouldn’t worry too much with them out of his sight. Not that them being there stopped him from worrying. He provided them with potions and a constant stream of slightly burnt cookies, hovering until they almost begged him to go start a project that wasn’t them. Almost. Neither of them could admit it quite yet, but being left alone was still not a prospect they felt comfortable with. As hilariously smothering as Zed’s care was, it was one of the main things that helped them feel safe again - and it had kept Zed grounded, too. Even though he had come out of that horrible day the least physically damaged, Tango still caught him nervously checking the exits and entrances of his base sometimes, ensuring a path of escape. None of them had really come out unscathed.

Tango shook his head and set his mind back on the present.  Not unscathed, no, but getting better. Bit by bit . Still grinning with pride from his non-crash landing, he set down his cargo and strolled over to the others, tuning in to their conversation.

“...slept at all today, man? I told you, you don’t have to help me just because you feel guilty.” Zed leaned over to adjust a repeater delay and reached back for the piston Impulse handed him.

“You know, I’ll admit it might have started out like that, but now I honestly just think this thing is really cool.” Impulse shrugged. “I better watch out, or before I know it you’ll have me filling my own base with contraptions!”

Zed lit up at the thought. “I can help you think of ideas! Your place is so big, you could probably get some major airtime with some of these slime cannons -”

“I think I’ll hold off on the high-velocity ones for now, buddy,” Impulse laughed. “Maybe I should start with something a little less dangerous.”

“Well, you might go splat, but you’ll never know for sure if you keep refusing to test it -”

“Additional slimification has arrived, boys!” Tango gestured dramatically to the overflowing shulker behind him. “Courtesy of one TangoTek Incorporated slime farm, free of charge.”

Zed scrambled to his feet and started for his enderchest. “No, I can pay, you don’t have to -”

Tango stopped him with an arm. “Zed, it’s the difference between me bringing it here, and you going to my storage room to steal it anyway. All I did was save you some rockets.”

Zed laughed and admitted defeat. “Okay, fair, but you should at least get something for the delivery.”

“Permission to test the slime-block-launchificator?” Tango raised an eyebrow hopefully.

“Oh, I guess we could make that work. Maybe, if you’re good.” Zedaph utterly failed to hide his delight as he bounced back to the contraption-in-progress.

Tango hummed softly as he crafted up the slime blocks to contribute to the project. The clank of pistons and the low chatter of ideas and plans occupied the background, so that the work was never dull. It lulled him into a comfortable pattern: place the slime balls in the crafting table, mould them into a cube, laugh softly at something Zedaph said or comment on one of Impulse’s ideas. He finished crafting quickly, but stood there for a moment longer with his back to the others, just soaking in the scene.

It felt good. It felt right. He was as sure as ever that no substitute or impostor or replacement could ever match this kind of joy.

“Guys?” He turned to face Impulse and Zed, wandering over to plop down cross-legged beside them. “I have something I need to say.”

“Oooh, Tango has a big announcement!” Zed’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he nudged Tango in the ribs. “Are you finally going to quit -ificating things? We can make you a support group if you like!” He put on his absolute worst Tango impression. “Hello, my name is Tango, and I’m addicted to ificators -”
“Are you giving back that pickaxe you borrowed two months ago?” Impulse joined in. “The one you said you’d give back last week because you forgot to give it back the week before when you said you still needed it for another week -”

“No, no,” Tango laughed. “This is what I get for being serious for once?”

“Okay, okay, we’ll listen.” Zed settled down and gave his full attention.

Tango fidgeted, suddenly feeling awkward.

“It’s just...next time, if one of us seems kinda... off , can we ask about it early? Just ‘are you okay’, ‘is everything alright’, that kind of thing. I just feel like if either of us had realized earlier we could have…” He trailed off, staring at the floor.

“Stopped it earlier?” Impulse asked gently.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll never know.” Impulse laid a hand on his shoulder. “If Zed or you had asked, he might have killed you right there, and then we’d be much worse off than we are now. It hurts to think about what we could have done differently, but in the end, I’m not sure if it matters as much as we think it does.”

“We all tried our best,” Zed offered. “We tried our best this time, and we’ll try our best next time. That’s all we can do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Impulse’s slightly sad expression gave way to hope. “And hey, it was enough, right? We’re all still here, after all.”

“Hopefully with a bit more communication, that can continue.” Tango paused, then sighed, a little bit of dread settling in his stomach. “That probably means more communication with Xisuma, too…”

“...Which means we really do need to tell him about the whole Decked Out incident.” Impulse winced. “Including why we didn’t tell him earlier.”

“Well, there are plenty of legitimate explanations for that, right?” Zed defended. “There are a lot of reasons why someone might not tell their friends about an evil clone! We knew he wasn’t here anymore, and he didn’t seem to be after anyone else, so I don’t think we did anything that bad.”

Impulse looked thoughtful. “Maybe...hopefully X sees it that way.”

“I do think Tango is right, though. We should check up on each other more often.” Zed smiled sadly. “I was starting to go a little bonkers in this cave all alone.”

“Aww.” Tango wrapped an arm around him, almost knocking him over. “Don’t worry, I’ll come help you test your contraptions. I think I’ll be a lot better tester than that jerkface you had over last time, anyway.”

Impulse looked like he was greatly considering something, then sighed. “Fine, I’ll help test, too…”

“Yesss!” Zed whooped. “Just agree that I am not responsible for any emotional or physical damages that the contraptions -”

“Sure, I’ll agree.” Impulse immediately looked like he regretted it.

Zed paused. “Really? I don’t have to forge your signature again?”

“No, of course not - wait, again? ”

“Oh did I say that, nevermind, don’t worry about it -” Zed scrambled to his feet and jogged toward his storage system. “Just have to get something real quick -”

Tango burst out laughing. “Congratulations, Impy, you’ve unlocked the next level of friendship: Fraud!”

“I’m honoured,” Impulse said dryly. “Now, does anyone have a non-soul-eating totem I could borrow for my inevitable doom at the hands of this slime thing?”

“You know X has all the messed up ones locked away, just like I know you already have at least one totem.” Tango crossed his arms. “Quit stalling, cannon boy!”

“Fiiiiiine.” Impulse slowly got up and climbed into the cannon, dramatically dragging his feet the whole time. Tango leaned against the side of the machine, waiting for Zed to come back so Test 1 could commence and he could have his own turn.

In that tiny moment of silence, waiting patiently for what would come next, Tango had a strange feeling: one that a month ago, he never would have guessed he’d have while about to be launched across Zed’s cave by some crazy contraption. One that he hadn’t felt fully in a while.

He felt safe.